#yes I really needed to write this

[bapydemonprincess]

One. Single. Time. Finny gets sick... At least he seems to be sweating and has a fever and appears to need to stop moving because he keeps getting woozy. So.. he is told he is likely coming DOWN with something.. And promptly tries to keep going.

Only for Sebastian to come swooping in to scoop him up and carry the flailing young man to his bedroom, throw off his clothes, throw him in the tub for a bath, then into PJs, and PUT HIM TO BED, practically SLAPPING an ice pack and a thermometer on him.

The next few hours Mey Rin and Bardroy see Mr. Sebastian treat Finny in a way they've NEVER seen up until now... Constantly checking on him and feeding him, even reading to him..

All because Finny somehow got sick. One. Single. Time.

....Little do they know Sebastian actually USED to treat Finny like this all the time when he'd just got here and it was only him and o!ciel at the manor...

Eventually Mey and Bard even suggest they can help take care of the gardener in the butler's stead but...

This is something Sebastian INSISTS only HE can do.

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[lexosaurus]

If you're only commenting on a fic to ask for an update or worse, to be passive-aggressive about wanting an update, then please do both yourself and the writer a favor and don't comment at all.

Saying things like "Can't wait for the next update!" as part of a comment about how you enjoyed the chapter is one thing, but just going into the comments and being like "Where's the update?" or "You haven't finished writing the next chapter yet?" or something similar is not only rude, but also I ASSURE you it only serves to make the writer anxious about writing at all.

Fic writers are not content creators. We're not robots. We're real people with careers, families, and other irl responsibilities. Writing is something I do in my thirty minutes before I go to bed to wind down from the day. Whatever I want to write that evening is what ends up getting written.

So by making me anxious and putting pressure on me to update a fic, especially in that passive-aggressive way that so many people do, all you've ensured is that when I open up my folder that evening to see what I feel like writing, my eyes will completely skip over that WIP that I got the rude comment on that day because I Feel Bad about it and now I don't want to even look at it.

So please, just follow the golden rule of "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

[sapphicscience]

trying not to become anti ai in a reactionary way but when this coworker starts writing his grant proposals with chatgpt I do start to see red.

[lightnersdream]

i've been thinking about exactly why people portraying one of the other crew members successfully killing Jimmy as a "for what you did to Anya" kind of thing rubs me the wrong way a bit and it's because like..... this is just another form of taking agency away from Anya, in a way. it's kind of framing her as some meek, shivery woman-thing who's entirely at the mercy of the men around her, either to hurt her or save her.

(i understand these are mostly for wish fulfillment on the audience's behalf because everyone would like to see Jimmy pay for his crimes. whether or not this is the intention of the person writing it isn't really relevant, characterization happens with or without intent. i feel like it misses the point by portraying it as an 'ideal ending'.)

because... Anya is a capable person. she takes things into her own hands when she can. it was partially(?) her idea to get into the cargo,

(before he interrupts her.. remember when she interrupted Curly in the dead pixel segment?)

it was her idea to get the code scanner from the cockpit,

it was her idea to get the medication from behind the foam.

(the chance to do these things herself is not given to her.)

she'd been keeping Curly alive for months in a critical state somehow, her psych evaluations at the start are only so useless because Jimmy refuses to take it/her seriously and Curly is obviously biased when he puts it into his own hands. he's known him a long time, like he said. "I'll just put good for that one."

there's not a lot of material to work with because of how the game is framed, but it's there. we are working with two very biased perspectives and neither one lends Anya what she deserves

there's significant changes in how she speaks post- and pre- crash, and depending on who she happens to be talking to. i recommend re-reading her dialogue, because the difference is drastic

she acts the way she does around Jimmy because he has tangibly done horrible things to her, is actively hostile, and physically could not escape him by any means. she can't take away Curly's agency herself, in my eyes. you have to remember that Especially in the post-crash segments of the game, it's entirely from Jimmy's POV, and he obviously does not (and has never) thought very highly of her or treated her with a shred of respect

i've seen a general idea that she can't bear to hurt other people for any reason, but that doesn't really track to me. this is the real point of the post by the way

it seems based on the parts where she says she struggles to give Curly medication. "It just hurts him so much, I can't stand the noise." "It makes me nauseous."

it's not really the same thing as, say, hurting someone in self defense

this sounds like she did want the gun itself. this never felt worded like someone who would refuse to, at very least, threaten Jimmy with a gun, with violence. if she had been given the agency to make that decision on her own. she wasn't though

she still tries to reclaim some of it even as she's denied it

by the end she's still trying to keep that gun out of his hands

i think some people overly soften her, for similar reasons the game itself is trying to comment on. she's not a tender victim who couldn't cause pain to another out of the softness of her soul, she's a person who's had every last bit of agency ripped from her repeatedly until she couldn't take it anymore. that's the point. that's why framing her that way, "needing" someone to save her, is odd to me

she didn't need Curly to save her, she needed him to take responsibility

she didn't want to escalate things, but she's not an idiot. self defense was absolutely on her mind

but who knows im just saying shit *smiles serenely*

[burningcheese-merchant]

ANSWER THIS AND YOU GET A FUNNY BURNING CHEESE COMIC

Hear me out

The ancients giving themselves up to the beasts as sacrifices if they agreed to leave earthbread alone and never wreck terror or show their faces again

I'd say everyone besides Flour would go:

Say less Babygirl*hops into a pumpkin carriage and rides off into the sunset*

Maybe Salt would need a lot of convincing because... Holy shit it could be this easy, Milk you seeing this, quick Spice snap a photo this is a moment in history

Flour is just in massive denial but would find a way to agree to mke it seem like it isn't about love or anything

Unknown3doors, don't tempt me like that 👀 don't tempt me like that, unknown3doors 👀 you're playing with fire, unknown3doors 👀🔥

Pure Vanilla surrendering to Shadow Milk would be the happiest day of Shadow's life. He makes Vanilla repeat himself multiple times, makes him announce it through a megaphone, they do a radio broadcast, Shadow makes a TV special out of it, Shadow writes poems and essays gloating and taunting... And then he eventually agrees to Vanilla's terms (although, he DOES try to haggle for permission to continue annoying people). Pure Vanilla is HIS!!! HE'S FINALLY HIS!!! FOREVER AND EVER!!!!!!! (And the Soul Jam, technically. But WHATEVER!!! HIS SILLY VANILLY!!!). Now Vanilla must endure having to spend EVERY SINGLE MINUTE of his life within 10 feet of Shadow AT ALL TIMES, or else the deal is off and Shadow will commit genocide in retaliation. Why the long face, though? You agreed to this! You knew this would happen! Maybe if Vanilla behaves well enough, like a good little doll, Shadow will allow himself to be HIS doll for a time. Tit for tat. It's only fair. They can be each other's playmate for eternity now...

Eternal Sugar would be 100% awake for the first time in forever if Hollyberry offered herself to her - in exchange for anything at all, it never had to have been for keeping innocents safe. Typical of Holly, in her estimate; she's not necessarily surprised by this. Maybe she'll feign a bit of surprise just because, maybe she'll tease Holly about it... But all in all, she's quite pleased. Now she can keep those pesky subjects of Holly's away from her much easier (as well as her friends... Including that ridiculous dragon...). Holly will learn to see things her way eventually. Appreciate the little things. Like a nice, long nap in a warm bed, in the arms of a loved one... Pleasant, sugary sweet dreams that are too comforting to wake up from... No one ever bothering them about anything ever again. Free from their responsibilities, free from the burden of the shield and the crown. Just the two of them in their own little world, pursuing their own happiness. Won't that be nice?

Mystic Flour would struggle to even entertain Dark Cacao's presence, never mind his... proposal (oh gods, not that word). She would refuse, and refuse, and refuse again. But Cacao does not give up, stubborn fool that he is. Curse his Light of Resolution... Eventually, in lieu of plainly refusing, she tries to appeal to reason. What about his kingdom? His people? What would they say, think, do? Will he leave them behind just to keep her pacified? What about his friends? His son? Who will rule in his absence? Unfortunately, Cacao has an answer for every single one of her questions... and, with an even greater undertone of misfortune... she likes them. That part of her that likes HIM also likes this. That he always has an answer for everything she says. That he won't bend the knee to her, no matter what. His self-sacrificing nature, bordering on martyrdom... just like hers once was. In truth, every word out of her mouth is only serving to delay her inevitable acceptance of his offer. A feeble attempt at shooing him away, one final shot at denying her feelings towards him, for having him around her constantly would be too much to bear, and she might... She... She'll break. She knows she will. And she can't have it. She won't stand for it.

... Dark Cacao, stubborn, handsome, selfless fool that he is. He has undone everything she ever worked for. Her apathy meant nothing the moment they locked eyes. It means nothing now, as they go back and forth about this foolish deal of his. And it won't mean anything when she eventually says yes.

(But she'll try to pretend otherwise, for as long as she can. Neither of them could handle the truth...)

Golden Cheese: Burning Spice, if you leave everyone else alone, I'll give myself to-

Burning Spice: DEAL!!!!!!!!! *pounces on her before she can actually finish or explain herself any further... What he does next, I'll let you imagine/decide 😉*

Silent Salt... wouldn't even believe it at first. He'd be astounded. Dumbfounded, really, that White Lily would say such a thing... Is this really her? Is someone forcing her to do this? What is the catch? Enough reassurance from her would convince him that she's being real and sincere and every other word that can be used to describe her deal, and... he accepts it. No other ifs, ands or buts. His White Lily... now, she really IS his White Lily. Forever and ever... He doesn't mind having to keep away from society; that's hardly a punishment. It costs him nothing. And if his White Lily is there with him, he won't even notice the difference...

[ottersandfandoms]

Full Analysis/breakdown of the asmodous crystal exchange because the episode broke me and this is how I cope. Warning: long

So the first shot we have is Stolas sitting on his bed in apprehension, then Blitz jumps up on the balcony. Blitz starts the night off like any other, bringing out his bag of sex toys and just speaking in an unworried manner. Yet we have the sad music playing in the background that lets us know this is temporary. It’s NOT a normal night. Stolas knows this too and he’s just quietly watching.

Stolas finally speaks and he stutters at the beginning. This is really happening. He disregards all the other things Blitz brought and instead just asks for the book.

This is when Blitz first starts noticing something is up. We see a quick shot of his smile dropping. He was all worried about Stolas getting bored of him earlier and wanting the book back and now he began to actually think those fears are being proven true. Even if he doesn’t admit it, Blitz has a big fear of not being wanted and just pushed aside, like he has been for most of his life. 

So when Stolas admits he needs the book back Blitz panics. His fears are true. He begins to hurriedly speak and makes excuses. This book is his livelihood and the reason for his jobs so it makes sense why he is scared of losing it. He leans in and tries to initiate sex. It works every time with Stolas so why wouldn’t it work now? Stolas begins to grow sad. He does want to have sex with Blitz. But he knows that would be unfair so he gets up.

Blitz is terrified. He desperately begs Stolas for the book. Blitz is being put in a vulnerable situation and he doesn’t like it. His whole life could be destroyed if he can’t keep his business afloat. He wouldn’t be able to support himself and couldn’t support Loona. He would “do anything” to keep it.

But then Stolas shows him the crystal. Stolas presents it to him in a happy tone. He tries to be happy and hopeful even though he is clearly still very worried. Maybe everything will be ok. Maybe Blitz will reciprocate Stolas’s feelings and everything will be great.

Blitz thinks Stolas is joking. He doesn’t understand why Stolas would do this. Now his job is safe but his relationship with Stolas is not. His deepest fears are being proven once more. 

He’s not good enough.

He goes into this state of wanting to please.

When Blitz was a child, his dad clearly saw Blitz as the weakling compared with Fizz. And no matter how much Blitz tried to prove himself, it was never enough. “I can do better” is almost juvenile in its phrasing. A desperate plea and promise that might diffuse the situation. Blitz reverts back to his childlike self where he was always last choice and flung aside like he didn’t matter. Imagine how many times he said that exact sentence to his father.

Stolas explains. Stolas actually does a good job of saying what he wants. He is clear and to the point, emphasizing asking what Blitz wants. During Stolas’s speech, Blitz glances back and forth at the crystal, trying to make sense of what’s happening  and then at Stolas. Because he does want to stay. He likes Stolas. If he didn’t care, he would've taken the crystal and left, but he didn’t and chose to stay. Stolas finally just finishes his speech by confessing his feelings. He says them in a frantic way; he is putting himself out there but there is hope there too. 

Blitz thinks he’s joking. Of course he would be. Why could Stolas actually seriously care for him? How could Stolas care for him? The only possible explanation has to be that Stolas is joking. So he puts on a roleplay because he thinks it’s what Stolas wants. He refuses to accept there may be something more.

Stolas takes this as a mocking rejection. His hope has been squashed. Stolas is so used to being mocked that he immediately takes Blitz’s ‘roleplay’ as Blitz making fun of him. Stolas has been mocked by the people, the other Goatia, Stella. Blitz is just another one to add to the list.

He accepts the supposed rejection and walks away. Blitz now realizes he wasn’t joking. He is legitimately surprised that Stolas would want anything true with him. Blitz has this worldview of nobody truly wanting him; finding him useful, sure, but actually wanting him…that would be impossible. Stolas’s confession is a stark blow to that worldview and it makes sense why Blitz needs time to accept this.

This is where Stolas makes his mistake, he doesn’t give Blitz time to think through this. He takes Blitz’s confusion as rejection, not stopping to consider that Blitz is just as scared as he is. His hope is now totally gone. Both Stolas and Blitz are eerily similar in their fears. They both just want to be wanted but where Stolas shrinks away in sadness, Blitz lashes out.

And that's exactly what Blitz does now. And he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t want to deal with his own hurt feelings so he instead blames it all on Stolas, to hide the fact that he may be blaming it on himself. The thing is, most of what Blitz says is true. Stolas repetitively called him a plaything and ‘little imp’ so it makes sense why Blitz doesn’t fully believe him. Blitz has always been the inferior one in his relationships. With Fizz, With Verosika, with Stolas, with countless demons. This has caused him this inferiority complex that he can’t escape. 

Blitz has tears in his eyes and he is truly breaking down. He has spent so long trying to convince himself that Stolas doesn’t care and now suddenly he does? He still hasn’t actually accepted that Stolas cares for him. He can’t accept that and that makes it all more painful. It has to be some lie or game and he is begging Stolas to stop playing. To stop complicating things because that will force Blitz to think about how he feels.

"Let's go!"

Blitz fully expects Stolas to yell back. he is so used to being in arguments where the other person will lash back as well. And Blitz almost wants this. He believes he deserves it.

But Stolas doesn't...

Instead he takes Blitz sceaming the wrong way. You see this heartbreaking scene of Stolas starting to cry. Stolas has spent his whole life being told to be quieter, be more controlled, less emotional. Him crying in front of someone, rather than alone really emphasizes the hurt he is feeling. And then there is of course the most heartbreaking line: “I didn’t realize you think so low of me”.

Everyone thinks low of Stolas. He is the “pathetic” Goatia prince who is constantly scoffed at and bullied. Blitz was his escape from all of that, but now he believes Blitz thinks the same as everyone else.

But Blitz DOESN’T think low of Stolas. He thinks low of himself. 

Blitz realizes he fucked up. He went too far and hurt Stolas.

He realizes that Stolas misinterpreted what he said because Blitz was never really talking about Stolas, he was talking about his own feelings. We can see Blitz actually try to reach out to Stolas. He needs to let Stolas know that he doesn’t think that. You can hear him start to say “I’m sorry-” but as he’s saying that Stolas portals him away. 

Blitz “What the fuck” perfectly encapsulates his feelings. He doesn’t understand what happened but he knows that he messed up. Blitz needs to let Stolas know that he actually cares about him and apologize for what he said and Stolas needs to understand that Blitz needs some time.

Blitz never once said that he doesn’t care, only that he doesn’t believe Stolas can.  

[konigsblog]

fifty year old, perverted könig who lies about his age, telling you he's in his mid twenties just to meet up with you and keep you all for himself.

[dreamofbecoming]

listen i know we all love steve “completely ignorant of queer culture to the point that bisexuality is a surprise” harrington being roasted and educated in turns by robin and eddie, yadda yadda, good stuff. i read “they made a horror version of rocky?” in a fic recently and cackled. also a big fan of “he knew he was bi from the start and just never talked about it” as a trope, love it excellent well done

but what about steve who realizes after starcourt that the most important person in his life now has this thing that’s a major part of her life that he knows nothing about, and what if he fucks it up? what if he says something ignorant or rude by accident, and hurts her? what if he loses her because he didn’t know the right thing to say? what if he can’t keep her safe because he doesn’t know what to look out for? absolutely fucking not, this steve says

and listen she’d never say anything, because she can tell that he can tell how much she likes teasing him and teaching him things, so he plays dumb, and she thinks it’s very sweet. but she notices when the zines she keeps under her bed that she buys at that one secret bookshop in indy when she can sneak away on family trips start going missing, always one at a time, and replaced in a few days with another disappearing. and she finds the new ones he must have gone to buy the weekend she was at her aunt’s house hidden in the back of his closet when she goes to steal one of his sweaters. and she notices when he slips more of her queerer movie recommendations into his personal take home pile rather than the movie night stack when he thinks she’s not looking.

she doesn’t notice when he drives to indianapolis after she tries to explain to him why she can’t just ask out a cute girl, tries to impress on him the fear attached to every moment of attraction that he simply has never had to feel, but later she finds a crumpled receipt from a diner in one of his jacket pockets when she’s looking for his keys, and the address is across the street from the bar the gorgeous woman at the bookstore told her about, the one she memorized the address of but hasn’t worked up the guts to think about visiting, and she knows he must have gone looking for a place like that, must have been trying to understand, must have been scoping it out to make sure it was somewhere she could feel safe, after she told him she never had.

so when eddie nearly pops a blood vessel when they clock each other and she mentions that steve is the only person she’s ever come out to before, her hackles come up. because she gets it, she does, he’s only known king steve until recently, so it makes sense that he would be afraid, be concerned for her safety.

but steve is her person, and no one- no one- has ever made her feel as protected or as cared for as he does. no one has ever tried as hard to understand her, no one has ever put so much work into making her feel safe and seen and loved. and she thinks maybe even if no one else ever does, that’s ok. because she has steve, and more importantly steve has her, and that means no one gets to question his ally credentials in her presence without a dressing down to remember, no matter how well they mean or how recently they helped save the world.

(and maybe she’s not as surprised as she could be when he figures out bisexuality all on his own, because she’s been reading all the same pamphlets he has, after all. and she’s seen the way he looks at eddie, i mean come on. maybe no one else has noticed, but then, nobody knows steve harrington like she does.)

[a-most-beloved-fool]

I desperately want more fics where the t'hy'la bond forms between Kirk and Spock from birth soulmate-style exclusively for the sake of making Spock, 16, feel the pain of starvation during Kirk's time on Tarsus IV.

There's maybe... two? fics I've read that used a similar concept, but there should be MORE.

Like, picture a Spock who knows that he's bonded to his t'hy'la, but has never met them. This bond is the one thing which makes him "acceptably vulcan" in the eyes of his peers. Surely he can't be a failed vulcan if he's got a t'hy'la, the rarest of all vulcan bonds, right? So, to Spock, this bond isn't only an honor, but a lifeline. His whole life, he's taken comfort from it, because it proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that there IS someone who will truly love and care for him and that he IS vulcan enough (and if he has some suspicions that the one he is bonded to isn't vulcan, well, he keeps them to himself).

And then, at some point, Spock begins feeling... oddly anxious. A little hungrier than he should be, most of the time. At first, he writes it off as simply another aspect of puberty, but then it continues. Then it gets worse. The sense of never getting quite enough to eat grows, and the anxiety builds, and eventually, Spock realizes that it's not him. His t'hy'la is the one who is hungry and afraid.

He brings it to his father, then, deeply concerned. "They are hungry," he says of his t'hy'la. "It is persistent and... palpable. I believe they are in danger."

Sarek is sympathetic, but unable to do anything save offer advice: "Be with them. If you meditate and focus on your bond, you may be able to reach them, to offer some modicum of comfort."

And so Spock does. He spends his days deep in meditation, projecting calm and comfort and gentleness into the bond, and he hopes that it is heard, though he can't help but feel that he isn't doing enough. He wishes that he could reach into their mind and find their location so he could help them, but even with the aid of T'Pau, it would be impossible.

And still, the fear and the hunger grow worse, gnawing away at his t'hy'la until Spock wonders if there is even anything left of them, on the other side of the bond.

"I fear they are dying," he confesses one night, emerged from his meditation for just long enough to eat a meal. "They are... so weak, now, and filled with such despair. I -" Spock's voice breaks. "I have not even met them. It is unfair!"

Amanda holds him, and he, for the first time since he was seven, allows it.

"Their mere presence in my mind has done so much for me, and in return, what good have I done for them? I wish..." He swallows, throat aching with suppressed grief. "I would take their place, if I could."

He wonders, almost, if it would be better for them, to die. Their pain was so intense, and their terror so strong - surely death could be nothing but release.

Still, selfishly, he wants them to live.

He wants to get a chance to know them, to love them as more than just a warm link in the back of his mind.

So, still, he meditates, and tries to press as much warmth and affection as possible through the bond, saying don't give up, I'm here, I'm with you.

And, eventually, slowly, the hunger goes away. The fear takes longer, but it, too, eases over time. It never goes away entirely, of course. Sometimes, starvation plagues his t'hy'la's memories, or disembodied terror strikes them out of nowhere. But still, they are healing, and Spock is grateful for it.

Someday, he hopes to have the chance to hold his t'hy'la in his arms, but until then, he offers his mind. Every time he meditates (and every time he feels his t'hy'la's distress) Spock presses love and warmth into the bond. He still doesn't know if he's reaching them, but he hopes - and sometimes, hope is all you need.

(Jim, for his part, thinks often of the gentle warmth and reassurance which filled his mind during his darkest days. He wonders if he could have kept going, without it. He wonders, too, where it came from, and why he can still feel it sometimes, brushing lovingly over him. He hopes that someday he'll find out, to thank them for staying with him, for granting him a light in the darkness.)

[blueskittlesart]

*sigh* thoughts on Nintendo's botw/totk timeline shenanigans and tomfoolery?

tbh. my maybe-unpopular opinion is that the timeline is only important when a game's place on the timeline seriously informs the way their narrative progresses. the problem is that before botw we almost NEVER got games where it didn't matter. it matters for skyward sword because it's the beginning, and it matters for tp/ww/alttp (and their respective sequels) because the choices the hero of time makes explicitly inform the narrative of those games in one way or another. it matters which timeline we're in for those games because these cycles we're seeing are close enough to oot's cycle that they're still feeling the effects of his choices. botw, however, takes place at minimum 10 thousand years after oot, so its place on the timeline actually functionally means nothing. botw is completely divorced from the hero of time & his story, so what he does is a nonissue in the context of botw link and zelda's story. thus, which timeline botw happens in is a nonissue. honestly I kind of liked the idea that it happened in all of them. i think there's a cool idea of inevitability that can be played with there. but the point is that the timeline exists to enhance and fill in the lore of games that need it, and botw/totk don't really need it because the devs finally realized they could make a game without the hero of time in it.

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[dolphelecat]

I Will Follow - Chris Tomlin

Wonderhole Edition

[zellaspinna]

bullrider!Landoscar is still rotting my brain so here’s some headcannons I came up with while being crossfaded

The PBR Teams:

* Mclaren Outlaws : Lando,Oscar,Pato,Christian,Nolan

* RedBull Oxes : Max,Liam,Yuki,Marc,Binder

* Williams wranglers : Alex,Logan,Franco,Carlos,zak

* Ferrari Sheriffs : Charles,Lewis,Arthur,Ollie,Rafael

* Mercedes Mavericks: George,Kimi,Paul,Fred,Doriane

Mclaren Headcannons:

* Lando actually enjoyed barrel racing younger until he met Jenson who introduced him to the Mclaren crew and ever since he aspired to be a pro bull rider

* Lando is basically John Crimber in this au

* when Oscar had his debut ride for the Mclaren Outlaws Lando cheered for him the loudest by the bucking chutes

* all of the Mclaren boys get along real well and turn their hotel rooms into warzones whenever they meet up to play mario kart or fifa after a rodeo

* Pato and Lando lead the team while mourning the loss of their side pieces (Daniel and Alex)

* Christian,Nolan and Oscar bonded easily being the youngest ones on the team and cause Zak really encouraged them to (for pr purposes)

* Pato teaches the boys how to line dance in the locker rooms

* due to Pato’s insistence their ‘hype song’ is Fake ID by Big&Rich

* also meaning they line dance at bars together (they as in Pato,Lando and Nolan cause Christian and Oscar would probably just rather chat and watch them goof around)

* Pato forced them to all watch Coyote Ugly as well as Footloose with him and they secretly loved both movies

* Oscar was really good at breakaway roping but found he enjoyed bull riding more and wanted to be like Mark and Fernando who where both bull riding champions

* Oscar got his boots,belts and hat custom made from Fernando

* Lando and oscar first bonded over getting their shit rocked by a bull called Papaya Rules

*I made a playlist of songs for this au! there’s not really a general vibe I just put some songs I’d see them dancing to or vibing to in the lockerrooms

[gcballet]

Just saw someone complaining about the Newhart ending from 0611 being mockery of people who ship Nandermo and frankly I can only imagine that account is someone who's under 20 bc that is not what mockery/rejection of queer ship fans looks like. You were in preschool when BBC's Merlin came out, you don't know. S6 and finale spoilers below.

The point of the Newhart parody ending was to provide an ending for fans who just wanted WWDITS to stay a goofy status quo sitcom. It's answering the black and white footage of the vampires in the 1950s. The sitcom status quo is a famously really hard trope to work with. The Simpsons is literally still struggling with it - decades of skilled comedy writers have never defeated it. It's a commentary on being satisified by the media we consume. The vampire can never fully be satisfied, no matter how many lives she consumes. The status quo can never be broken no matter how many episodes it attempts.

The 1980s trope of 'it was all a dream' happens in The Bob Newhart Show, it happens in St. Elsewhere, it happens in Dallas. They aren't mocking a queer ship, they're mocking sitcoms and how they've been hamstrung by format in terms of the story they can tell. Assume they did pursue Nandermo unambiguously, onscreen. It would be legitimately too dark for a sitcom. Or conversely, too hopeful for a documentary.

The other generic format choice restricting them is the documentary, because everything the characters do in the show is them being watched by a group of strangers with film equipment. None of their behaviour is wholly real. The entirety of the finale is Guillermo realising his behaviour will change when the crew leave. His behaviour has been influenced by the presence of cameras, and it will happen again. For the first time in six years, he's going to experience actual privacy, and there will be scope for him to express things he has deliberately suppressed with the cameras on. In the first episodes of S5, we saw him get increasingly frustrated with the crew, calling them vultures, as they tried to get the story on what happened with Derek. He's ready for his privacy back, and space to change, but the vampires live by sitcom rules. They aren't prepared to change, or at least, he isn't confident about it.

What We Do In The Shadows (2019-2024) is restricted by two specific genres and their conventions, and the first two 'endings' - the dream sequence and the switching off the cameras - represent exiting both of those genres before any significant radical moves can be implied for Nandermo.

It's a sitcom, therefore the central couple must be in perpetual will-they-won't-they (Friends), the gays must be physically chaste (Modern Family), and the status quo must be maintained (The Simpsons). Once the sitcom is ended via the Newhart ending (which positions Guillermo and Nandor as a married couple, that's not a small thing at all), the documentary tropes can close out.

Documentary tropes are a little harder to pin down, but generally the story should end with Guillermo truly moving on and leaving in a poignant and somewhat tragic way.

Guillermo's narrative thread throughout the documentary version of the show is about his identity and relationship with Nandor. He gives the cameras a big show of finally saying goodbye to Nandor, going on to be a new version of himself, and waits until the crew begin to derig before acknowledging again that a documentary is performative, and he intends to continue their relationship. The documentary format means intimate moments must be captured. When the documentary ends, the intimacy may be private. That's why we don't get a Nandermo kiss. It's allowed to be private now.

Guillermo is sad throughout the finale, yes, but I would argue he's actually mostly stressed, because on one level he understands that the show must commit to one of two trope endings. The sitcom, the repeating lives of the vampires where nothing matters and you can be hypnotised to believe there was nothing deep about it. Or the documentary, where he is forced to tragically leave forever, having learnt a valuable 16 year lesson, perhaps meeting again for a 'where are they now?' Twenty years later.

He thinks he has to choose in under an hour, between the endless sitcom cycle the vampires find natural, or walking away with the humans who made the documentary to capture something ephemeral and temporary.

They do both, and then Nandor and Guillermo get what is clearly the ultimate ending. It's not formatted in such a way that you choose between endings. They're not alternate endings, they're subsequent endings. It doesn't have multiple endings like Clue, it has multiple endings like The Return of the King.

And maybe Guillermo and Nandor don't kiss on the mouth and declare their love for one another, but the camera crew is still leaving the room. What they do do is agree to stay together and work together on something to make themselves and/or the world better. Then Nandor invites Guillermo to share his pseudo-bed and disappear into a private space he has created in secret for the two of them. Even phrased matter of factly that's romantic. Someone flippantly called it 'the gays getting sent to super hell' and wow way to deliberately miss the point. Nandor never follows through on big projects, but he built a miles deep tunnel under the earth so he and Guillermo could at last be alone away from a huge documentary crew and roommates with super hearing. That's beautiful. They don't owe you an onscreen kiss to prove they're in love. They (Nandermo and the show producers) don't even owe you representation, and if you think otherwise, you've not bought into the premise of the show. You are the voyeur watching the documentary, the fan watching the Ross and Rachel (Nandor and Guillermo have been compared to them by the cast).

The whole point of the endings is that they moved Nandermo outside the unreality of TV genres. Not a sitcom will-they-wont-they, not a tragedy within a documentary, just two weird guys in a coffin in a hole in the ground, doing whatever they want because nobody is watching and judging.

They didn't make Nandermo canon, they made Nandermo real.

[rainbowsuitcase]

I'm gonna cry, someone please tell me if Maverick calling Ice "sweetheart" during sex is ooc or not before I lose it